Heroes Revisited
by Drag0nst0rm
Summary: Short revisits to the Heroes of Olympus. In which: Sally Jackson has more children than she ever gave birth to, some pranks take things way too far, a dark AU explores a Giant War where things are a bit less happily ever after, and Percy gives an entirely in character proposal.
1. Perfect

Jason's mom was negligent at best and dead to boot.

Frank's was dead.

Hazel's was bitter and dead.

Leo's was dead.

Piper's was self-centered and absent.

Annabeth's was busy and absent.

Percy's mom, they were all convinced, was perfect. Percy and Tyson agreed.

Which was why, one year after the Giant War, eight kids squeezed into the kitchen to make her breakfast.

Nico showed up with flowers ten minutes later.

Nine.

Sally Jackson had always rather wanted more kids.


	2. Scribing Issues

"Er, Annabeth?"

"Yeah, Percy?"

"Did you ever get around to reading the camp scribe's records of the Giant War?"

She frowned. "No. I didn't really want to think about it. Why?"

"Frank brought me a chapter."

Annabeth read it. It took her a while. She was pretty sure her dyslexia must be acting up. Finally, she had to accept it. "Where in Olympus did he come up with _that?_ "

"I'm blaming the Stolls. Or possibly Leo."

"Even for them, this is in bad taste. Especially when Nico and Calypso just got engaged."

Several screams rent the air. In the distance, the earth cracked.

Annabeth grabbed her dagger. "What was that?"

Percy smiled sheepishly. "I might have mentioned something to Nico first."

Thus unleashing the Underworld on an unsuspecting Hermes cabin.

Seaweed Brain.

Well, alright.

 _Her_ seaweed brain.

 **A/N: I used to ship whatever was canon and leave it at that. After events, I explored the fandom more, came up with my own conclusions, and started shipping Jason/Reyna, Nico/Calypso, and Leo/Piper. And Percabeth, of course.**


	3. Dark AU: Percy

Percy Jackson. The name rippled through the camp like an incantation. No matter how tired or injured a warrior was, they brightened and stood a little straighter when he strolled past.

He was the only one without a single scar, despite the fact he was always in the very center of the fighting - or, occasionally, an entire fighting force in and of himself. Everyone had seen weapons bounce off him. Everyone whispered about why. He'd bathed in the Styx, he'd been blessed by Ares, Hecate herself had fallen in love with him and given him an enchanted coin. Even the wildest theory was held as plausible. It was, after all, Percy Jackson. They said the only reason he wore armor was because he thought if they had to cart it around all day, he should too. They said he was unkillable. Invulnerable. Immortal.

Whatever it was, it radiated off him in a powerful aura. There wasn't a drop of water that didn't reach for him as he passed. There wasn't a warrior that didn't gravitate towards him, in battle, at the campfire, in the command tent. He was the sun they orbited, desperate for the life giving deadliness that protected them all. Desperate for some of that confidence to rub off and ease their terror filled sleep. Desperate for that twinkling humor that even the war hadn't completely driven from his eyes.

It might have been terrifying, if you thought of it, to realize that the same man - and he was a man now - who comforted the terrified eight year old they found in the woods, who added the perfect dash of "crazy" to the Athena cabin's brilliant plans, who could rally them through every death and setback and loss, who kissed Annabeth when he thought no one was looking - he was the same man with that deadly fury in his eyes as he drowned their enemies where they stood. He was the same man who sent countless monsters screaming to Tartarus with every sweep of his sword - and once had followed them there and lived to tell the tale.

The Romans sent spies to their camp. None of them ever reported back. The Romans assumed they'd all been caught.

The Romans were wrong. Very few of the spies had ever been caught, mainly because they spent one day in the Greek camp and decided they absolutely, positively, did not want to do _anything_ that might upset the Greek general. What started as terror was quickly roused to loyalty until they would have happily followed him back into Tartarus if he had a fancy to go.


	4. Dark AU: Annabeth

It was her. Every one of the new recruits straightened, heads bobbing nervously as her keen grey eye swept over them. A red scrap of cloth covered the socket that had once held the eye she'd lost to the Giants, but no one was stupid enough to believe that meant they could get anything past her. If anything, it had made her gaze more vigilant, more piercing. They said she could spot a spy from ten paces and a mist manipulation from fifteen. They said she could read a battle field like her siblings read books. They said she had taken on ten Earthborn and _won_ with nothing more than a knife.

They also said that she was dating Percy Jackson and that he'd kill you if you so much as breathed on her. They'd all seen what had happened to the enemy demigods who'd tried to assassinate her. They believed it.

They also said that beneath the grime and scars everyone accumulated, she'd once been beautiful.

They weren't sure they believed that, but they were sure that they'd seen what Percy had done to the kid who'd suggested otherwise _and_ the kid who, desperate to avoid the same fate, had hastily said he was sure she'd once been worthy of Aphrodite.

Percy had disagreed with him about the _once_.


	5. Dark AU: Clarisse

Clarisse Drakon-Slayer rolled her eyes whenever they kissed.

She'd also made it perfectly clear to everyone around her that while she might think they were too "gushy", she'd defend either or both's honor, reputation, or life at the drop of a hat, and she had the scars to prove it.

Clarisse was a legend unto herself. She was the only half-blood who wore drakon leather armor. She'd had one of its claws forged into a sword that could cut through Celestial bronze like butter. Anyone who'd been on the receiving end of one her glares would be quick to swear it put a Drakon's to shame in pure petrification inducing terror alone.

She still had the scars from the time Polybotes himself had tried to get her to reveal where the demigods had been hiding. The exact story of her escape was somewhat hazy, but everyone knew that the Four had been involved, that Polybotes had temporarily been sent back to Tartarus, and that while Clarisse might still grumble about whatever she pleased, she had also charged a Giant unarmed to save Annabeth.

And survived. No one messed with her much after that.


	6. Dark AU: Piper

It was her. Every unattached male in camp - and a few who would have been slapped for drooling like that - sat up and paid attention. The _ghosts_ Nico had summoned sat up and paid attention. Helen of Troy would have turned green as an emerald in pure jealousy. People would have said she was just that kind of girl, but, one, that would have implied there were others like her, and two, she'd have threatened to cut your tongue out.

Piper McLean was perhaps the only girl in the camp who wasn't covered in mud. She was definitely the only girl in camp who smelled like cinnamon instead of a slaughterhouse. And the only wounds she ever seemed to get were the kind that would make her look either pretty and helpless or pretty and deadly. She had armor that _cleaned itself_. Instantly. _In the middle of fighting Giants_.

She was also the only warrior, period, who, as a secondary weapon, carried a megaphone.

Or, rather, a Hephaestaus cabin enchanted necklace that had the properties of a megaphone. Because her carefully maintained beauty wasn't vanity.

It was a weapon.

And it was a very, very, dangerous one.

If Aphrodite and Ares had ever had a daughter, it would have been her. Her charmspeak had grown to the point where it no longer waited for her call; it rolled off her in droves, driving even the monsters on the battlefield to distraction.

It was said she'd once held a Giant off for two hours by _talking_. It was said she'd infiltrated the Romans camp and so ensnared one of their Praetors that she'd convinced him not only to spill all of his people's secrets, but to sit still while she slit his throat when he was done. There were rumors that she'd fallen in love with Leo because he was the only one who was immune to her charms.

What no one said, because no one knew, was that she cried herself to sleep. Because no one was immune, so how could she know if any of it was real?


	7. Dark AU: Leo

Leo Valdez _burned_. That crazy light gleamed in his eyes, fueling him through sleepless nights that left him covered in grease, sweat, and tabasco sauce.

Of course, he also burned things in a much more literal way. Like armies, for instance. Riding a Celestial Bronze fire-breathing dragon into battle helped, of course. As did cabin mates wielding flame throwers. You know. The little things in life.

He spiked his hair with machine oil and considered his magic tool belt a fashion statement. Not exactly what you'd expect from a guy dating the next best thing to Aphrodite herself. Normally, people would have scoffed, but then, he was one of the Four. Of course they would get together.

Besides, how could you not like a guy who had rigged a Port-a-Potty to fall on Gaea? Or who had built wings for Festus out of scraps and duct tape? Or who had given Nemesis an ear in exchange for some aid in putting down Mimas?

Friendly guy. Liked a good joke.

Assuming, of course, that he hadn't gone mad.

Leo always laughed off that rumor as ridiculous.

After all, it assumed he'd once been sane in the first place.


	8. Dark AU: Praetors

Praetor. Hope of Rome. Son of Jupiter. First of the Three. The man who had turned the fifth cohort from disgrace to elite, who had survived a fight with Perseus Jackson, who had fought Porphyrion himself, and who'd won back the eagle for the legion.

And, of course, Reyna's latest fiancée.

Praetor. Mastermind. The daughter of Bellona who had buried her last fiancée, and fellow praetor, then maneuvered Jason into both positions a week later. Speculation was still rampant about why, exactly, Marcus Flamsey had needed to be buried, but most people seemed inclined to point their neighbors at Reyna, without, of course, actually looking themselves. That would be foolish, and they all knew what happened to fools. Marcus Flamsey had a headstone to prove it.

She who had fought off every assasin, she who commanded the twin hounds, she who rode a Pegasus to victory. She and Jason certainly made an imposing pair. Her with her hard eyes and the scar that curved under her nose and up her cheek. Her with her red cloak and fighter's stance. Him with a gladius given to him by Juno herself. Him with the hero's jaw and scarred left side, borne of the fight of The Three against The Four.

Quite the pair.

Especially when alone.

She who wept for a sister she hadn't been able to contact for two years.

He whose sister fought for the Greeks. He who'd been disowned with an arrow to the arm.

She who felt the loneliness creeping in around her.

He who had to force himself to remember that the fifth cohort was not his family now.

They who woke from screaming nightmares and realized that they were at their worst when Gaea simply let their own memories take their course.

No one ever knew that. Just like no one ever knew that, contrary to rumor, Reyna had not killed Marcus. Contrary to rumor, Jason hadn't either. He hasn't even wanted the job.

And it was all slipping out of their hands now. How could it not when their hands were slick with blood?


	9. Dark AU: Hazel

There was a brand on her arm that the Roman Legion had placed there.

It was not the usual one.

Murder. Murderer. Witch.

 _And the cursed gold popped up around her during the trial with diamonds that sparkled like her tears but there should have been rubies, rubies for blood -_

Ghost. Cursed. Cast out.

But the Oracle said she was one of the Three, so they brought her back.

 _The son of Neptune will wash away your curse -_

There was only one of those, and he fought on the opposite side.

Frank handed her a ring with a pleading expression.

She dropped it like it burned, horrified, and wouldn't let him pick it back up.

 _Cursed, cursed, cursed -_

She cannot use her left hand. The fire boy looks so much like Sammy, her Sammy, her wonderful Sammy.

She didn't duck fast enough. The fire burned her hand and it was so hot it almost didn't hurt but she could see bone -

Even Sammy knew now that she had to be punished.

 _She had given him a diamond._

Had she killed him?

She was fire and blood and curses and ghosts, and her brother came to see her with haunted eyes, and she was so glad to see him because he had saved her -

His hands around her throat, and Stygian iron bursting from the ground and mingling with bones -

 _Greek, they hiss, Greek. Hades, not Pluto._

They caught him, Frank tells her. They caught him and trapped him on shadowless ground, and she thinks she can hear the screams still rumbling in the earth.

Percy Jackson saved him, he tells her. The Son of Neptune came with a hurricane of water and whisked him away. He's alive, he tells her.

Her brother had said she deserved another chance to be a hero.

She does not feel like one


	10. Proposal

**A/N: Most fan fics seem to think Percy's proposal to Annabeth would be desperately romantic.**

 **I think they don't have good enough luck for that to actually work.**

 **This will probably be my last one of these, so I'm marking this complete.**

 **AU.**

* * *

"Annabeth Chase, will you marry me?"

Annabeth had not expected Percy to be creative with his proposal. She had not expected anything fancy. She had not even expected to get through it without a monster attacking.

She had, however, had higher expectations than _this._

"Ask me again when we're not being held captive by a crazed Roman augur," she suggested.

"So that's a yes, then?"

"Shouldn't we be trying to come up with a plan?" Jason hissed. "He's going to come back to complete the ritual any minute now."

"The ritual in which he asks for the favor of Neptune by sacrificing some of my blood," Percy pointed out. "I'm looking forward to the fireworks."

Of course he was. Obviously it hadn't occurred to him that Octavian might not just take a pinprick.

Fortunately, Annabeth had enough brains for both of them. She'd get them out of here and then Percy could give her a proper proposal, thank you very much.

It wasn't until they were safe and up a few near death experiences that Annabeth was clear headed enough to remember Percy was neither stupid nor insensitive.

He'd known he might die. That was why he'd proposed.

"I still want a ring," she told him. "And of course that's a yes, Seaweed Brain."

Whatever else he was, he was _her_ Seaweed Brain, after all.


End file.
